Story Notes: In this fan fiction, most of the events that took place in the Harry potter series would remain unchanged and this is, in fact, quite important for the way this story will take shape; except of course, the epilogue, as written in the book, would not have occurred. That is, for our purpose, the HP series will be ending without the epilogue...There'll be some things that I'll be adding here and there. In fact, all you have to do is bear what happens in the Harry Potter series in mind. Also, I simply love the idea of the Draco-Hermione pairing. I think that if ever romance was given a chance to evolve between Draco & Hermione, their love would have been of the explosive and passionate kind - instead of the quiet and friendly pairing of Ron and Hermione that has been done in the books. I believe that Draco's and Hermione's love can create thrilling sparks! They are both witty and intelligent, and they hate each other! However, if that pairing was a given a chance in the series, the story would probably have strayed and would not have focused on Harry Potter. Read this fan fiction if you want to know whether, ignoring the epilogue in HP7, Hermione will indeed end up with Ron or with Draco. Even though I loved the Harry Potter series, I also tend to focus a lot on characters and wonder what is going on in their minds. Draco had me wondering much of what kind of a person he truly is. He intrigues me. I like to think there is way more to him than what we get to know in the books. In my opinion, we never learn who he is in the books and, therefore, I'll be adding Draco's take on things - how he views events, what he feels, and how he changes during those seven years at Hogwarts and in the final battle against Voldemort. You'll learn about his secret thoughts, his person, and his passions; witness how he ends up losing himself completely…After all, don't they say…lose yourself first; once you've been drowned in the darkest depth of despair and resurfaced, you'll find the real you. After that is done, our Real Story, set in the post–Hogwarts era, will start ;o)
Chapter Notes: This prologue is a scene from "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban". This scene is not included in the books but for the sake of this fan fiction, you'll be allowed a secret glimpse into what happened between Draco & Hermione in one particular scene. If you go back and read this part in the book, you'll see that this scene does fit. Of course it will, since it has occurred for real; only J. K. Rowling omitted from mentioning it … ;) ;) ;)
Thank you J. K. Rowling for having already imagined such an amazing magical world...all I'm doing now is some embroidery work ;)...
Prologue
A secret glimpse into a past
Shared by two young souls
Forgotten by one
Remembered by the other
A secret glimpse into the birth
Of a love impossible, forbidden
Forgotten by one
Agony for the other
A secret glimpse into passions
That arose like a phoenix from ashes
Forgotten by one
Burning alive the other…
Malfoy strutted off at an angry pace away from Hogwarts castle's doors. A strange, cloud filled obscurity seemed to envelope him. He was fuming, and you could almost feel the air freeze as the cold, thunderous rage inside of him diffused into the area immediately around him. All the other students who were casually strolling down the corridors in between classes, whether they were younger or older wizards, parted in a sea of dark robes for the blond-haired boy with fire raging in his eyes to pass.
Professor Flitwick, who was on his way to his Charms class, blended with the smaller first years as all of them wondered what had caused Draco Malfoy to change from a usually cool-headed, arrogant and detached bully into a seething cauldron of frosty ire. Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost who was gliding alongside the students, stopped just in time to avoid Draco passing through him.
"I urgently need a mantle for protection against this strange, unholy hoarfrost in the air!" Nearly Headless Nick muttered, shuddering.
For the first time since he had been at Hogwarts, Malfoy felt humiliating tears smarting at the back of his eyes. Crabbe and Goyle were having a most difficult time keeping up with his frenzied pace! Crabbe cleared his portly voice that seemed to have turned into a tiny squeak, intimidated by the queer, intensely negative, not to mention, slightly scary vibes emanating from the tall, blond Slytherin with the intense silver grey eyes tinged with azure, and called:
"Malfoy, Malfoy, wait for us! Why are you walking so fast anyway? Wait!" Malfoy ignored them and kept on walking ahead, feeling his insides boil with a maddening rage.
"Is it because Mudblood Grang-" Goyle started asking, but was instantly cut off by a very incensed Malfoy.
"Clamp those oversized hippopotamus mouths shut! I don't want to hear a word! Get the hell out of my sight, both of you! Now!" Malfoy shouted back at them without turning, and his dark green Slytherin robes slashed through the air as he disappeared around a corner. Stunned, but partly relieved that they could escape Draco's company when he was in such foul mood, Crabbe and Goyle retraced their steps and headed towards the Great Hall in order to have a second go at the Meringue Ghosts and Pumpkin breads they had relished so much at lunch, an hour ago.
Meanwhile, Draco's footsteps could be heard resounding on the wide spiral staircase that led to the Slytherin common room found in the dungeon. The stone walls were lit with bright burning torches that had a distinctly emerald glow. Peeves, the mischievous and unruly poltergeist, could be heard cackling further down; no doubt busy bothering the younger Slytherins.
Suddenly, an idea struck Malfoy, and as he stopped abruptly to consider his options, his heart studded so fast it nearly propelled him forward. The greenish glow from the torch reflected in his lovely silver-grey eyes and made him appear devilishly scary. His harsh, jagged breaths came out at an increasingly brisk pace, and he at once swung around, running back through the corridor, his hungry eyes scouring the sea of frightened faces for one particular person.
Granger. Where the hell was that Mudblood? She should be in her Charms class, thought Draco. Back there, she had succeeded in stunning him with that harsh slap across the face. And he had walked away, anger consuming him so completely that he did not trust himself not to combust in flames right there in front of them. Now that he had somewhat cooled down and cleared his muddled mind, he was determined not to let Granger walk free. She would pay and end up begging for mercy. He would drag her out of class and teach her a good lesson even if he had to curse everyone in there in order to be able to do so.
As Draco raced towards Professor Flitwick's class, he caught a bushy head of a hair in the corner of his eye. That had to be Granger! She was not in class and was quickly scurrying away from Potty and Weasel who were not paying any attention to her. Clearly they were still on cloud nine after having witnessed him, Draco, being slapped by a most despicable Mudblood!
Granger, for some obscure reason, seemed to be in quite a hurry and was heading towards the Gryffindor common room. Draco was lucky, for no one else was in sight.
"Not so fast, Mudblood!" called Draco at the top of his voice as he raced towards her and saw Hermione turning around, taken aback but her hand already moving to her wand.
"Silencio! Immobulus!" cried Draco in quick succession as he cast the spells that at once silenced Hermione and caused her to immediately freeze on the moving staircase, respectively. Draco ran to where Hermione stood staring at him with apprehensive eyes, but unable to say anything or to make the tiniest of movement. The figures in the paintings on the wall had all rushed to one particular painting. It was one in which a romantic couple had been dining by candlelight, but were now struggling not be squeezed out of their picture. They all stood transfixed at what was happening in front of them.
Draco snatched the strange-looking pocket watch Hermione held in her hands, and at once identified the quaint object to be a Time-Turner. A devilish glint came into his eyes as he thought of the place he would like to land back in time and turned the clock half an hour back, grabbing the arm of inert Hermione with him.
They landed right away in one of the highest, abandoned tower of Hogwarts castle. Its ceiling was very high and tapered up in a spire. Large, arched windows surrounded the tower, and the lofty trees of the Forbidden Forest seemed very near, gently swaying in the wind. Mountain ranges, draped in misty clouds, could be seen far away at the horizon.
Draco snatched Hermione's wand and stowed it safely away inside one of the pockets of his robe, and at the same time pointed his own wand at the floor, whispering spells that cleared the broken marble floor of debris so that he could walk unimpeded. Even if it was broad daylight, the inside of the tower was quite dark. Candles, both new and used, as well as books, were strewn haphazardly around the place. Malfoy muttered spells that lit the candles, instantly lending a warm glow to the tower, and said the counter-curses that freed Hermione from the two hexes she was under the spell of.
"What do you think you are doing, you imbecile?" shrieked Hermione at once, moving towards Draco but stopped short seeing how incensed he looked.
"Shut your filthy mouth!" Draco shot back, advancing dangerously towards Hermione, who was instinctively taking some steps back away from him.
"Who the hell do you think you are, you repugnant, ugly Granger? How dare you slap me in front of Potty and Weasel? How dare you raise your bloody, dirty hands to Draco Malfoy? You hideous banshee!" Malfoy asked, his temper rising ever higher, as did the pitch of his voice.
"Malfoy, calm down! You deserved that slap down there! You kept getting on our nerves with your provocations, and this time it was one drop too much when you called Hagrid-"
"I asked you to shut that dirty mouth of yours, Mudblood! Notwithstanding the fact that it stinks, it disgusts me to be in your presence. It disgusts me to be here up with you, but you need to be taught a lesson you will never forget! You would not dare come anywhere near me afterwards!" Malfoy bit back at her and pushed her harshly against the crumbling stone wall; effectively trapping her between the wall and his body.
"So, Granger, tell me," hissed Malfoy quietly, "did it make you feel good? Did you actually relish the way you expressed your relief at how Weasel and Potty were back to talking to you again?"
"What, what do you mean?" asked Hermione, puzzled at his odd question.
"Don't try to play more dumb than you are already are, Mudblood!" Malfoy warned angrily.
Hermione cringed at the appellation. "I don't know what you are getting at, Malfoy! Leave me – let me go!" She tried wriggling away from Malfoy but his hands reached out at her elbows, clasping them firmly.
"What I mean is that your slap was not your actual anger at me, Granger! I might have called Hagrid 'pathetic', but that isn't what caused you to get physical with me." He paused before continuing in a quieter, more ominous tone. "You had been upset, Granger, long before I said anything. Yes, you've been distressed since your cat, Crookshanks, isn't it, apparently ate Weasel's rat Scabbers!"
Hermione stilled at his astute observation and looked up at his eyes. It was a mistake, for their surreal intensity quite mesmerized her.
"What are- are you getting at Malfoy you- You-" Hermione tried to find words, but for the first time, they were failing her.
"Can't find your way?" asked Malfoy, a sneer dancing at the corner of his mouth. "I'll tell you. The sudden bout of anger you showed down there was because of your relief more than anything else. Do you think I didn't notice your frequent visits to Hagrid's cottage these last days? Did you not cry your heart out with that big oaf, as your only friend? Did I not see you crying whenever you thought you were alone?"
"But I- But- I-"
"Reduced to a stammering fool, Granger? It hardly surprises me. Yes, you were very upset because you felt guilty that your cat hurt ratty Weasel's rat! And when Potty and Ratty were no longer talking to you, it quite tormented you… Didn't it? So today, one word you hear from me and you fly in a rage, hitting me in front of your friends! Did you think it made me feel good? I once thought that you had the ability to think, Granger. I was wrong," continued Malfoy. Hermione could not find anything with which to refute him.
"When you hit me, you did so with the confidence of having your two best friends by your side. You did so because you were relieved they were talking to you again. You did so out of allegiance to them; to show where your loyalty lied. That physical blow was a way for you to leave behind the tension and angst that had gripped you the past days." Malfoy paused. Hermione's heart was beating so hard in her throat. Malfoy was getting scarier with every passing second.
"Take it out on Malfoy, the inner you whispered. Slap the worthless git in front of dear Harry and Ron. They would see how I am on their side! They would see how I too despise Malfoy. They would always admire me after this," Malfoy continued ruthlessly.
"Isn't that what passed in the brainless head of yours, Granger? You loved finally letting go of your frustrations by using me! Didn't you?" he asked in a deceivingly soft way, and did not let Hermione answer as he continued. "WELL, I HATED IT YOU FILTHY SLIME! I AM NOT ONE TO BE MESSED WITH! I AM NOT ONE WHO WOULD ACCEPT TO BE THE SCAPEGOAT ON WHOM MISS MUDBLOOD, STUPID GRANGER WILL LET GO OF HER FRUSTRATIONS ON, GET THAT?" Malfoy shouted hotly, letting anger and hurt consume him utterly. His eyes were flashing with fire, and it was not surprising how Hermione felt as if she was being scorched by the blaze.
Hermione was on the brink of bawling her eyes out, but courageously blinked back the tears.
"No, no, Malfoy I didn't, I didn't, you, it was-" she stammered, at a total loss for words. Strange, distressing emotions were further scorching her inside. She could recognize some truth in Malfoy's words, and she could not begin to fathom how he could be so young and be so very perceptive. Maybe it was that keen perceptiveness that allowed him to identify other's weaknesses and exploit them. Wouldn't that also mean that if you could pinpoint other's weak points, that you were also very likely to hide your own? What was his?
"Malfoy, what …what are...are you trying to do? If this is re…revenge-" stammered a bewildered Hermione, but Malfoy cut her again in mid-sentence by advancing so near to her that she felt the wall piercing into her back as she cowered as far into it as she could. He stared at her with his tempestuous eyes. There were so dark and clouded, Hermione felt a chill run down her spine, and felt as if nothing she said would get across to him. But still, she tried.
"Malfoy, stop! You'll regret this!" screamed Hermione as Malfoy grabbed her waist with one hand and slammed her small, soft body into the harder wall of his. Hermione had never been that close to a boy. She had never before even thought of how firm a boy's body could be, compared to her own. But now, those differences were fast slipping into her consciousness. Malfoy kept looking down into her big, brown, frightened eyes. His free hand pointed his wand at a particularly large brick that had fallen off the wall and transfigured the latter into white floor cushions. He must have practiced transfiguring bricks into cushions quite often to have done that with so much ease, Hermione registered dimly. What for, she found her addled mind wondering.
"Now that's funny, do you think I'm going to kiss your filthy lips, Mudblood?" scoffed Malfoy, his lips curling with disdain. "Scared, aren't you? I can feel your heartbeat racing like a mad train…" he drawled, and pressed himself even closer to her. Hermione's eyes widened with surprise.
"Malfoy, let-let me go-" Hermione started saying, trying to unlock her jaws that still felt like it was under the Silencio spell, but was unable to finish her sentence as Malfoy brought his mouth crashing down onto hers. At first she was too dazed to react as he practiced a most artful dance on her lips that made her feel as if she was hovering a few inches above the ground. The kiss was not awkward as the first kiss of two youngsters could be. No, in fact, the kiss felt as if they had suddenly grown beyond their years! An image flashed into her mind; that of a burning fire under the rain...!
The most bizarre thing was that Hermione felt as if her heart had viciously crashed against a wall of warmth, fuzziness, something with much more than a feeling of home. It had to be what they say about souls recognising each other! But they were so young...!
It was surreal and mystifying.
However, it seemed as if Draco realised that they were a bit too comfortable, and his kiss became more and more like a punishing assault. As her senses gradually came back to her, she started wriggling ineffectually in his arms.
He pushed Hermione roughly down onto the cushions; fastening both of her wrists high above her head as one of his black boots pinned both of her ankles painfully down, preventing her from further struggling. Hermione bit at Draco's lips and he unclamped his mouth from hers, looking deep into her eyes, as if searching her soul; both of them breathing hard.
Hermione was trembling and reeling with shock, for she still could not fathom that Malfoy, the one who hated all Muggle-borns, would condescend to even coming that near to her. And where had that feeling of utter warmth come from? Was she hallucinating? But no, she reminded herself, he was not coming near to her...God no…he was…he was…
"Leave me, Malfoy! I'll re-report this you-you brute, let me go!" cried Hermione, feeling utterly powerless in his arms as a sudden, terrifying realization struck her. He would not stoop that low, she kept convincing herself, he would not! They were very young and...and...
"Ha…you'll report this, will you, Mudblood?" smirked Malfoy, a crazy light still dancing in the depth of his eerie silver-grey eyes.
"Yes...yes, I will – let me go, Malfoy! You are a foul-" Again Hermione was unable to continue her sentence as Malfoy placed his forefinger on her lips.
"Ssshhh…foul…yea, that was the word you used a few moments back, when you slapped me in front of your gloating friends, right? Foul and evil…I'll show you what foul and evil truly are, Granger!" Malfoy said in a dangerously quiet tone, bringing his lips merely inches from Hermione's. His hold at her wrists tightened, hurting her, and his boot dug even deeper into the soft skin at her ankles; her thin socks providing little protection.
"Mal…Malfoy…you can't...you won't…I'll –I'll report you and you'll be expelled!" Hermione muttered feebly, scared like she had never been before. Scared of this maddened Malfoy, and scared of the strange sensations inside of her. One of his hands was tracing languid circles at her waist over her robe, and it was starting to make normal breathing difficult. Rather, she found herself breathing rather heavily.
"But who'll believe you, Granger? Who will believe that I, Draco Malfoy, a renowned hater of repulsive, vile Mudbloods such as you, will deign so much as to stoop unbearably low to even touch the revolting person you are?"
"Stop it, Malfoy!" cried Hermione desperately, feeling her heart strangely breaking to pieces inside. That was nothing unusual from Malfoy. But why was it hurting her so much at that moment, Hermione thought. Was it because it was the first time Malfoy was so close to her and telling her what he thought of her, to her face? Was it because he was making her so swiftly become aware of the physical differences between a boy and a girl? Was it because, for an unforgettable moment, she had felt inexplicably close to him?
Hermione had never thought of Malfoy as anything other than a spineless tormentor, but now, up close, she could see a bottomless depth behind those expressive silver-grey eyes with the cerulean hues. So close to him, she was fast becoming aware of his handsome sharp features, of those red pomegranate lips that should, normally, have belonged only to some poor, starving and romantic poet freezing in his garret. She was noticing those amazingly long lashes of his; lashes witches would probably be stepping onto each other's dresses in order to have. Maybe she felt deeply hurt because she was noticing his extreme physical attractiveness when he was bent on telling her about her own repulsiveness, and showing to her how much he hated her.
"Stop what, Granger? You don't really think that I'm kissing or loving you, are you?" laughed Malfoy chillingly. "It is not 'Stop it, Malfoy' that you should be saying," Malfoy continued relentlessly, mimicking Hermione's scared, trembling voice accurately. "You should be saying, 'Have pity on me, Malfoy, I regret what I did' and, you can also add, 'I am a trashy, worthless Mudblood, and I won't come near you again'. Try saying that, I might be less rough with you," said Malfoy in that still cold, quiet tone of his that bristled with menace, his lips quirking even more as he enjoyed Hermione's plight.
"You can keep dreaming, Malfoy! You are despicable! I hate you more than anything else, you insane de-" Hermione started saying, her voice rising; her fright and hurt lay momentarily forgotten as Malfoy, yet again, caused her temper to get the better of her. However, once more, Malfoy prevented her from finishing her sentence by forcing his lips brazenly onto that of Hermione's; who helplessly tried to fight back. After a short while, Malfoy released her lips, breathing hard.
"Enjoying this as much as I am, are you, Granger? No? What, clever Granger cannot think of a way to extricate herself from this cleft stick? Poor Mudblood, still holding onto your crappy pride? I'm telling you, I will soil you through and through, and once I'm over with you, you'll think twice before coming anywhere near me again, you disgusting Mudblood! You'll feel dirty, and you will quietly accept yourself as a Mudblood. Also, you should know that I care not whether you hate me or not. But, you should be aware that, at this moment, I'm feeling nothing for you but loathing," Malfoy whispered savagely next to her ear as the hand that had been tracing sensuous circles at her waist grabbed a fistful of her robe in anger.
Hermione could not stop the tears that flowed from her eyes, and as Malfoy made for her lips once again, she turned her head; but Malfoy pursued and claimed her lips back even if she felt him becoming more and more hesitant. Was he starting to feel dirty too, by kissing her?
"Stop it, Draco, st-stop!" cried Hermione weakly as all fight left her body. How could he talk like that? That was not how teens of their age expressed themselves, she thought! What could have made him say such things; how could he feel things so intensely? How could he say things that could hurt so much without him having resort to actual physical violence! What made him become like that? There were so many questions which were assailing her and she had an answer to none! She was not aware that Malfoy had stilled when she called him 'Draco' for the first time ever.
"I'm sorry, Draco…sorry…" she mumbled, not realising that he had released her the moment she had stopped fighting him. Draco felt all his rage evaporate in an instant, and a deep sense of shame and self-disgust overwhelmed him. He had broken her pride, but he strangely felt as if it was he who was dissolving.
"Oh, get up, Granger!" he urged her as he gracefully got up to his feet. Hermione stayed in the same position he had previously pinned her down in; with her arms raised above her head, her tears drenching her cheeks.
"Granger, I said stop crying!" he said, more distressed than he'd ever admit to himself from seeing her making such a miserable figure. He had chosen words that intended to hurt her, but they had been words that were breaking her. Whatever he had said to her were mere words - never would he have stooped so low as to assault her! Physical assaults were for cowards; he had only wanted to frighten her. He had not liked it when she had exclaimed that she hated him, and, regrettably, he had been unable to retract the fiend that lived in his mouth that wanted to hurt and wound whoever made him feel vulnerable.
Indeed, Draco never cared about what others thought about him, but Hermione's words had a way of always hitting home, and it made him feel exposed. He had wanted to hit back at her; to make his words reach the core of her, and he despised himself for having succeeded.
"I said enough, Granger!" he said in a softly admonishing tone, detesting himself for having frightened her and making her so upset. Why was he feeling as if the tears that were escaping from her eyes were flowing to his heart? What did Granger have that other girls did not? What did Granger, a mere Muggle-born, have that had made him attribute so much importance to her; to how she was feeling, to how she thought about him?
Draco knelt down and gently brought her hands back to her sides. Hermione raised inquiring eyes at him, and he tenderly stroked away the tears from her face. Draco reached for his handkerchief inside his robe and, helping her rise in a sitting position, he placed the handkerchief at her nose, silently urging her to blow in it. Hermione did so and gaped as Draco smiled sadly at her openly shocked and bemused face.
It was the first time she had seen him genuinely smile and he looked stunning. She felt blown away by everything that had happened in the past half an hour. It was the first time she had seen an emotion in him that was different from haughtiness, indifference or spite.
"You should close those jaws, lest an owl flies into it!" laughed Draco, and Hermione quickly closed her lips, but could not help not staring at him. His laughter illuminated his face, and her racing heartbeat was being driven by an emotion that had nothing to do with fear.
Not fear, no, it was awe.
"What happened? Did you see a ghost, Granger?" Draco joked in a light-hearted manner, a slight twitch on his lips.
"Dra-Draco, are you-are you- feel-feeling al-alright?" Hermione tried asking in between embarrassing hiccups, unsure how to talk to this strange, disturbingly attractive and more human Malfoy. Her eyes could still not believe that Draco had smiled at her and had just asked her to blow her nose in his handkerchief! Earth had surely toppled upside down!
Draco's smile faded and his eyebrows quirked in concern. "You are asking me about how I am feeling when it is you who has been put under a silencing spell, immobilized, forcefully abducted, disarmed, pushed against a wall, pinned down on cushions, and have had to undergo an assault over your lips, and," he paused, "been hurt by words so vile that they define who I am?" Draco finished; his last sentence, a mere whisper.
His silver-grey eyes freckled with sapphire had turned almost violet due to the intensity with which he gazed at her. Hermione felt as if dragons were dancing inside of her, instead of the fluttering butterflies. She had no idea whether she was dreaming or awake, and neither did those details seem important. It is strange how she at once felt disoriented, lost, but oddly exhilarated nonetheless.
"After all this…" Malfoy continued, "you ask me how I am feeling? For all your intelligence, can you get any more stupid, Granger?" Malfoy sighed as he sat down on the cushions next to her.
"It is yourself that you need to be concerned about, foolish Granger! Are you okay?" Draco asked softly, with a tortured expression in his eyes.
"I'm…I'm okay, Dra-Draco. It's alright. I'm- I'm not hurt," Hermione stammered uncharacteristically, still unable to avert her eyes from Draco's face; queerly anxious to wipe out that agonized expression from his. What was happening? Had they been transported to some parallel universe? Why was she thinking like a grown up? Why was he behaving like some chivalrous knight, offering his handkerchief for her to blow her nose in and comforting her? Teenagers their age did not behave like that, did they? They did not feel things as intensely as she was feeling, did they?
"These tear stains on your face..." Draco paused as he gently traced his thumb and forefinger on her cheeks, "and these reddened lips," Draco tenderly delineated her lips with his fingers, "tell a different story and… You are shivering, Granger," Malfoy observed, and at once pointed his wand at a heap of rotting, wooden beams in a dark corner which, a few seconds later, became alight with a cozy fire. Nevertheless, the dawdling, fizzy and heady warmth that was spreading inside Hermione's body had another source altogether. Draco. She had to be dreaming, Hermione convinced herself, and if she was, she hoped that she would not wake up for another hour; rather not for another day; or maybe, not for at least another week.
"If I was a Muggle," Draco started saying with a wistful look on his face, "I would have given you my coat so as the cold does not get to you…but I'm a wizard, and I can easily conjure up a fire with my wand; thereby missing the opportunity to gallantly wrap you up in my robe. Muggles. They sure get many opportunities to be romantic," Draco commented.
Hermione was caught unawares at the next words that came from her very own lips: "But you are not an ordinary Muggle, Draco. You are a wizard and you made a fire. If we had both been Muggles, and you had given me your coat, I would still have felt cold…but the fire you have just created has banished away the cold altogether… That is much more gallant... Thank you…" Did she just say that? She never felt as if she was superior to Muggles as even her parents were Muggles! She just, at that moment, did not feel Draco to simply be an ordinary young boy. And was she going mad, or had he called Muggles romantic?
Draco studied the puzzled expression on her face, and her eyes that had that faraway look even if they were focused on his face.
"You must be wondering if I have gone mad, aren't you, Granger?" Draco smiled again and her heart did a back flip, or was that a somersault, or was that-
"I must be dreaming…" Hermione muttered half to herself, and nearly pinched herself before stopping, realising for a second time that if she was indeed dreaming, she did not want to wake up.
"You might be…or you will be," muttered Draco mysteriously, and to distract her, asked, "What is this Time-Turner for Granger? You, above anyone else, probably know that it is unsafe to play around with time! How come you have one with you?" He had drawn out the strange timepiece from his robe and was examining it.
"Oh!" exclaimed Hermione as she realized how she came here in the first place. "Give me that, we should be go-" Hermione reached for the Time-Turner but Draco threw it in the air, catching it back with his other hand and held it back from her.
"I will give it to you, Granger, but we will go back when I decide to," Draco said, his eyes colliding with Hermione's, and she received another jolt of electricity inside of her. No, she was almost certain these were not things that other young teenagers of their age could feel. Did Draco feel that too?
"I…I…Professor McGonagall lent it to me so that I could catch up with all my classes. We should not be here, we should go back, Draco!" Hermione said halfheartedly, secretly hoping that he would not listen to her.
"Can I touch you…there, Granger?" Draco asked, effectively ignoring what she had said, his teasing smile illuminating his face. He was downright gorgeous, thought Hermione, but as what he had just said slowly permeated through to her mind, she turned beetroot red all over and felt her face heating up.
"What? You- What- You just- Have you gone MAD?" Hermione managed to say breathlessly, even though her tongue felt plastered to the roof of her mouth.
"Relax, Granger, I'm just pulling your legs. Besides, that is just a Muggle song!" Draco laughed, winking at her and reached around Hermione's side. Hermione held her breath as he twisted over her without touching her, gracefully levering himself from where he sat to lie next to her on the cushions.
His arms were now propped against his handsome blond head as he lay on his side, looking at Hermione with those devastating, sparkling, ocean grey eyes. He was truly mesmerizing, thought Hermione. Wait a second, had he just casually avowed that he listened to Muggle songs? Hermione was on the point of questioning him when he, once again, managed to baffle her.
"You're a beautiful girl, Granger," Malfoy drawled sexily, leaving Hermione looking as if a troll had just thumped her on the head: stunned. Her mouth made a perfect O and would have stayed so if Malfoy had not reached up and closed her chin, still with that maddeningly gorgeous smile playing on his lips.
"And I'm sorry," he said, the tone of his voice changing from teasing playfulness to grave.
Hermione blinked once, twice, and, finally realising that she had heard well, asked:
"Sorry? For-for what?"
"Sorry for the way I've been treating you, Granger, sorry for calling you Mudblood…" he trailed off.
"Oh, Draco, it's okay, it's enough that you are now-" Hermione started saying but was cut off, mid-stride, by Draco as he had once again placed his finger on her lips.
"Don't be so quick, Granger, I haven't quite finished," Draco continued. "I also apologise for all the times in the future that I'll be calling you by that foul epithet," Draco said.
"I don't understand, what do you mean?" asked a puzzled Hermione.
Malfoy sat up and, in doing so, towered above Hermione by a few inches. Hermione's eyes greedily reached up to him.
"I mean that it is not the last time that I'll be calling you 'Mudblood', and I'm truly sorry for it. I admire you, Granger, you are a wonderful girl. You are prepared to do anything for your friends, and you are often their staunchest support. I would have liked to have someone like you near me," Draco confessed to Hermione, who found herself wondering yet again whether she had not really died and was now hovering on a strange plane between life and death.
Giving herself a mental shake, she said, "Draco, we can be friends, too! There is no reason why Gryffindor cannot mingle with Slytherin and vice versa, there is no reason why we should not sit at the table together and be –"
"No, Granger," he cut her off. "I don't want to be your friend," he said. Hermione lowered her head; her eyes started scrutinizing the floor, for she had no idea how to explain the tears that were suddenly swimming in them. What was Draco doing to her? What was she letting him do to her? How come every single word of his arrowed straight to her heart? What were these jumbles of emotions that were currently assailing her?
"Look at me, Granger," urged Draco, gently taking her chin in his hand and turning her face so that she looked at him. "I don't want you only as a friend. I think I've had a crush on you ever since I remember. But now, I don't think that it is a crush, or mere infatuation anymore. I think I'm falling for you, Granger…" He paused, looking deep into her soul, before continuing, "And if I don't distance myself very far from you physically, or alienate you through my words whenever I address you, I'm afraid it might turn to suicidal obsession…"confessed Draco, oh so softly.
His voice ran down the entire length of her body, making her shiver with something she had never felt before! It was like the caress of a feather that tickled her skin, and at the same time made her blood feel like viscous honey inside. What was that, she wondered? Was it pleasure? How come Draco was making her aware of her own body at a level she had never paid attention to before? And how could he talk like that? Where were those mature sounding words coming from? Had he always been like that? How could she have been so blind before? No, she was not totally blind. She had always known that Draco was quite intelligent and very observant, even if she would never have admitted it before. She had not known that he could be so passionate.
In fact, it was queer how she felt that they were not merely two young people talking; instead, it felt as if they were communicating with each other's ancient souls. Certainly, that had to be what was happening, thought Hermione. She was thinking in a way that she had never done before, in words she did not know the origin of, and was feeling things that could not be felt by students in only their third year at Hogwarts!
"You- You-I-what-I-" stammered Hermione incoherently. She seemed to be doing that a lot around him!
"You don't need to answer me, Granger; it was just something I had to get off my chest. I know that you only think me as an unfeeling, arrogant jerk, and I also know that we are not fated to be together," he paused shortly. Draco, too, was realising that inexplicable things were happening between them, and whatever he was telling her came from the core of him.
"You'll probably end up with Potter or Weasley, though I'm more inclined to think it will be Weasley, because he is very protective of you. He's always trying to defend you against me, and each time, I just want to rip his head off for doing so. I hate seeing the grateful light in your eyes each time he stands up against me! Still, you'll probably be happier with either of them. There is this rift between us that cannot be breached-" Draco broke off and turned away, staring morosely in space. His beautiful blond profile moved Hermione. Was she suddenly falling for him too?
"I can see no rift between us, Draco… We are so close…see?" whispered Hermione as she lowered her eyes, feeling incredible shy as her hand tentatively reached out to his arms, causing him to turn to face her. She did not know why it felt so important to stress how much she believed what she was saying to be true; that it was not impossible between Draco and her.
"You should not have said that, Hermione… Sweet…sweet Hermione," Draco whispered, his intense, bluish-grey eyes speared through her. He brought his face near to hers and touched her lips with his own in a butterfly caress. He deepened the contact between them and kissed her slowly, sensually, and with so much heartbreaking tenderness that tears flowed from Hermione's eyes. Draco kissed her tears away before reclaiming her lips back in that loving passion. Her face felt burning hot, and it was as if her blood was heating up on smouldering coals.
When he broke the kiss, she thought she glimpsed how dying felt like. She felt that life was slipping away from her, and she tightened her arms that had somehow wound their way around Draco's waist. Draco smiled at her, and she managed to find her voice to whisper in a tone filled with wonder:
"You called me Hermione… You called me Hermione for the first time, Draco…"she observed, thrilling vibrations travelling up and down her body. Draco had said her name in a way no one ever had before. It was full of approval, affection, and, incredibly, something approaching reverence.
"And you've been calling me Draco for the first time too, sweet one…" he noted, a strange sad mist danced at the bottom of his lovely eyes.
"I guess it is time we go Her-" Draco started saying, but could not continue as Hermione quickly cut in.
"No! I-I mean…it's okay…we can stay some more," she suggested pleadingly.
"Now, that is very uncharacteristic of my responsible little kitten…" whispered Draco as he took out her wand and placed it between both of her trembling hands.
"You can jinx me if you want, Hermione," said Draco smiling before he continued. "No, you can kill me if you want; it would be a most beautiful way of dying," he stated playfully.
Hermione's finger reached across Draco's lips automatically.
"I would rather die first," she muttered, unable to comprehend from where such profound and fierce emotion came from; but, feeling her words with every inch of her soul.
"You are way too young to be talking about death, Hermione. You have a whole happy lifetime stretching in front of you; even if I would not be in it," Draco sighed.
"Ssshhh-" He stopped Hermione who was on the point of countering his statement. "This is probably the first and last time we'll ever be alone again. It is also the first and last time you've heard me say those words, my sweet one. I'm going to turn the timepiece now so that we can go back," Draco said as he started turning the clock.
"Wait, Draco! You haven't told me why you chose to come here, in this tower instead of back at the castle's doors, where you could have stopped me from slapping you and changed the whole outcome!" Hermione asked, very anxious to buy some more time with this strange, unusual, lovely and stunning Draco Malfoy.
"Buying time, Granger? It will not work with me. I can read you, baby," he whispered close to her lips, and kissed her at the same time they were transported back to where they had been originally standing; on the staircase leading to the Gryffindor common room.
Back to the real world.
Back to where Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger were irreconcilable foes.
They stood facing each other in silence, both of their hearts thumping madly. Draco was the first to break the silence that had been thrumming with deep feelings.
"Hermione, if there was one last thing you could say to me, were we to talk for the last time, what would it be?"
Hermione tried to shake herself up from gazing at him with such wonderstruck awe.
"I…I think I'm falling for you too, Draco," she whispered back. She had told him that she thought she was falling for him, but it was not true. Even if she was so young, she knew what she felt for him could not be encompassed in the famous four letter word. She could not comprehend the deep-seated sadness and regret that had appeared in his fathomless, mesmerizing eyes.
"Do you know the Muggle song called 'Is this love?' sung by Whitesnake?" Draco asked playfully, trying to lighten the mood.
Hermione blinked. "No...I don't know it... How come you listen to Muggle songs, Draco?" she asked, bemused.
"There are many things you don't know about me, Hermione," Draco said. Hermione just kept gazing at him, and unlike Draco, stayed oblivious to the approaching sounds of footsteps.
"Will you trust me if I ask you to do something?" asked Draco, a sense of urgency in his voice.
"Yes, yes I will!" Hermione replied without hesitating, her eyes shining with trust and…newfound love.
Draco lifted his hand to her forehead and gently made his way down to her chin as he said, "Close your eyes, my sweet one." As she smiled in anticipation and closed her eyes, Draco slowly walked away from her, his heart feeling like a cumbersome load inside his chest. As soon as he was far enough not to be noticed, he aimed his wand at her.
"I'm sorry, Hermione…" he said, pointing his wand at her and whispered, "Obliviate."
It was a memory charm that would make her forget their little escapade in the tower. It was a spell that would make her forget the Draco Malfoy she had come to appreciate; even if it was the tiniest little bit. It was a spell that doomed Draco to a lifetime of unhappiness. Even if he was still merely a teenager, he had grown up long ago, and the wrenching pain in his heart was telling him that forgetting Granger would be quite an ordeal.
"Our roads only crossed briefly and we must separate, Hermione. We both have different journeys and different destinations. I'm only sorry I permitted myself to selfishly indulge in this brief, beautiful encounter with you. It did not assuage anything. I'm just burning more fiercely than ever, and I'll probably end up in ashes… That is my concern, though. Good luck, my sweet one…"
Draco clasped his wand so tightly it was threatening to snap in two. He watched sadly as Hermione came back to herself. She looked about in a surprised manner and, slowly shaking her head, trudged back to the Gryffindor common room.
Where had Harry and Ron disappeared to, thought Hermione. She'll catch up with them later. Right now, she was feeling strange, and there was a heaviness in her heart that she could not quite place. It was as if she had left something crucial behind. Had she misplaced the Time-Turner, she thought wildly before being reassured as she felt it in her pocket, safe. Was it because she had just slapped Malfoy? No, it could not be; the arrogant prick deserved that! Besides, a nap would do her the greatest of good…
She would think later.
End Notes: Look forward to have a peek into Draco's diary and his world whilst he had been studying at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the first few chapters...there might be many things you might not know about him; his feelings, his hobbies and basically, who is Draco Malfoy? Is he merely a cowardly bully or is he someone with deep feelings? Who is Lydian Hydras? What is it about a certain Lighthouse painting? Who might Sirin be?